


Missing Home

by AwkwardBlueFish



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, DC - Fandom, Red Robin - Fandom
Genre: A lot of them - Freeform, Alternate Dimensions, Alternate Realities, F/F, Gen, Tim needs a hug, anyone ever hear a writer say that about their work?, car crash, there are tears, this took forever but I’m proud of it!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:54:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23906497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardBlueFish/pseuds/AwkwardBlueFish
Summary: Nothing is right about this place. Tim doesn’t know if it’s an alternate reality or if someone is just playing a sick joke on him.On top of all that he’s trapped with some of the worlds dangerous criminals. But are they even still villains in this world? Or are they something more?
Relationships: Harley Quinn/Poison Ivy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 68





	Missing Home

**Author's Note:**

> I actually finished it! I think I’ve been trying to do this for two months now.

Tim knows something isn’t right before he even opens up his eyes.

He’s lying on something hard, too cold to be wooden or carpet. Marble or stone perhaps. Steel? Steel seems more plausible. He doesn’t feel like he’s on the floor exactly.

He’s drained, exhausted like he’s ran a marathon that Bart had dared him and Kon to do when they were bored. His chest tightens and he shoves the thought away, toes curling and chest going tight. 

He needs to focus right now. He needs to know where he is.

He breathes in slowly, remains laying on the floor and listens. There’s talking and mumbles of voices, harsh and hurried. Tim goes cold because he knows those voices. Both of them. 

This is not good.

“Dr. Joe I think he may be too far gone. This is the sixth episode this week!” Admits Harley Quinn and Tim doesn’t know what to do except remain frozen.

“Harley we’re doctors for a reason! We don’t give up on our patients.” Joker, the Joker, responds angrily.

Tim’s heart thunders in his chest when he realises whose here with him and what he’s lying on. It’s a steel table without any of the stuffing or cushions. His wrists and ankles are tied up. He panics.

“He’s awake!” Harley exclaims and Tim doesn’t hold back. He thrashes and struggles, eyes snapping open and being blinded by the lights shining down on him.

“Tim, you need to calm down,” Joker says and his face peers over him and Tim freezes, going stone cold.

He doesn’t know what they’re playing at but it will not work on him. Jokers hair may not be green and he may not be in his get up or as pale as usual but it’s still him. It’s still him and Harley who’ve got him tied down and alone. This wasn’t good. Not at all.

“See, that’s it honey,” Harley coos and it would almost be soothing in any other situation. Tim yanks away from the manicured hand reaching for his cheek.

Harley’s eyes turn sad and she lets her hand fall to her side. She shakes her head at Joker who frowns and lets out a disappointed sigh. 

“I thought we were doing progress,” he admits and Tim wonders what they’re trying to do to him. It can’t be anything good. He really needs to get out of here, and soon. “Get Dr. Ivy will you? It’s time for his medicine. And please, leave the flirting to after hours.”

Harley flushes while Tim feels the blood drain from his face. Quinn leaves the white room and Tim catches a glimpse of long white hallways. This isn’t any of their usual hideouts and it’s none that he immediately recognises either. 

“I wish we didn’t have to take precautions like this Tim.” Joker says as he stands by the bed. Tim keeps the eye contact. “All of the medical staff just want to help you believe that this fantasy you’ve created isn’t real. Batman isn’t real. Red Robin isn’t really. You aren’t Red Robin, you’re just Timothy Drake.”

“How the hell do you know that?” Tim spits out as his stomach folds into itself. How does the Joker know who they are? Oh god, was it his fault? Did they figure out when they captured him? Why can’t he remember?

Joker gives him a look and it’s so pitying Tim nearly throws up. “We’ve talked about this Tim. You’re in Arkham State Hospital. You need psychiatric help my boy.”

“No, this isn’t real. You tell me where the hell we are and let me go before I shove my bo right up your-“ Tim’s threat is cut short as Joker raises a hand. He doesn’t know why he stopped.

“None of those weapons exists. The bo staff you believe you have is just toilet rolls stuck together. The batarangs are cut out from cardboard. You aren’t a hero Tim. You’re just a seventeen year old boy who went through a traumatic experience. We’re here to help you, believe it or not.” Joker is still talking but Tim can’t listen anymore.

“Stop it! Stop it!” He’s yelling and he’s thrashing. “What the hell have you done to me?! Where are the others! What did you do to them?!” 

There’s rushing footfalls and Joker is pinning his hands down, bony fingers digging into his skin. Pills are shoved passed his lips as his jaw is forcefully opened by a soft palm. He sees a flash of red hair and his skin stings as something sharp is pushed into it.

Everything is blurring together. Voices, people and his surroundings. He can’t fight it this time. He’s failed.

“What are we going to do Joe? He’s suffering and nothing’s working.”

“I don’t know Harley. But we can’t give up on him. He’s been trapped in these walls for far too long.”

“We’ll figure something out Harleen. Everyone wants to help this boy. Nobody’s giving up on him yet.”

—

“What do you want?” Tim spits as Joker enters his room with TwoFace. He’s different too. He doesn’t wear his normal stuff and one side of his face is scarred.

None of this is right. It’s just not right.

“To help you.” Joker says simply and TwoFace nods, a warm smile on his face that twists in his gut. The door closes behind them and Tim eyes it. He doesn’t try escaping. He needs information first. 

He scoots back on the bed. “I don’t need help.” He says and Joker sighs. He opens his mouth but sirens blare. 

Tim shoots off of the bed instinctively but the way Joker looks at him halts him. He doesn’t understand why he’s listening to a criminal but he is. What the hell is wrong with him?

Joker nods and his gaze turns to TwoFace. “You stay here with Tim! I’m going to help the others!” He orders and his white medical coat flies behind him as he rushes out the room. 

TwoFace’s sickeningly sweet smile turns into a sinister one as soon as they’re alone. Tim’s stomach drops and he shifts, preparing for a fight. It doesn’t help he stood in a corner. That was a rookie mistake. He’s so goddamn stupid.

“You’re delusional boy,” TwoFace spits and Tim nearly wants to cheer at something being normal. Something being right. He doesn’t.

“Is that so?” He says instead, fingers curling up into a slack form of a fist. He’ll be ready. No more rookie mistakes. 

TwoFace chuckles and it’s dark and horrible. He takes a step forward. Tim doesn’t move. “Yes. You’re just a stupid boy playing hero. Just because you had a traumatic experience doesn’t excuse all the things you did.”

“What did I do exactly?” He asks and the man before him laughs. 

“Like you don’t know. But let me humour you.” He takes another one forward and Tim sucks in a breath. “You let your emotions get to you. Convinced yourself you were a hero after accidentally spilling bleach in their drinks. You killed your own parents and then you couldn’t handle that. After the murder you committed Bruce Wayne happily adopted you.”

“I did no such thing,” Tim whispers low and deadly. Anger seizes at his gut like a rattle snake but he reigns it in. No need to get worked up and unfocused on the real situation.

“Bullshit.” TwoFace snorts. “And then after all that the rich kid got adopted. Makes no sense to me. And because of that you saw them as your hero’s. Made them that. You started asking about patrols, missions. Calling them Batman and Robin. There was a Nightwing to, wasn’t there? A Red Hood and Batgirl? Pathetic. At least they knew you were losing it, so they locked you away. You’re never leaving here.”

“Don’t talk about my family like that,” Tim snarls and TwoFace raises a brow while a low chuckle escapes his twisted and snarled lips.

“I do what I want.” He snarks and Tim lunges. His fist connects with a nose and he feels the crack, the blood spraying on his knuckles. 

He keeps going, keeps punching. He gets a knee to the side and grunts and that’s all TwoFace needs to pull out his stick. He jams it in his side and all Tim sees and hears is white hot pain. 

He’s groaning, struggling against it. His head connects with concrete and he can hear the alarm through the marble floor. His head feels clogged and heart heavy with pain.

Where were they? He just wanted to go home.

—

It’s been two days since Tim’s been here. He stays in this room, locked in. There’s a single bed, a toilet and sink. The walls are white. There are no windows but the one on the door. 

He got scolded after his little stunt. He didn’t care. TwoFace claimed his innocence, convincing everyone the mentally traumatic kid attacked the kind doctor just because he could. They fell for it.

“I’m disappointed in you Tim,” Joker had told him, arms folded on the desk between them. “You’re better then this. I want to help you, but you need to let me help you.”

Tim hadn’t said anything. He let Joker ramble on. He wouldn’t listen. He knew right from wrong. Whatever game they were trying to play wasn’t going to work on him. Not in a long run.

At one point during the appointment Harley had come in. They whispered in hushed voices and when they looked away Tim slipped a paper clip up his sleeve. 

Tim got another beating that night. TwoFace was the one to give him the medication. He was really starting to hate those damn sticks. At least he knew his bo staff is efficient. Heh.

He’s in his room now. It’s dark. The lights are off in the corridor and a officer patrols it every fifteen minutes. It’s been three. He’ll be long gone now. Down another winding corridor.

The door is locked but it won’t stay that way. Spitting out the paper clip, he crawls out the bed. He stuffs the pillows under the blanket, shapes it like a person. The human figure shape should give him sometime until the officer figures out something isn’t right. 

He stays below the window as he crawls to the door, kneeling on his knees and slotting the paper clip in the door key and begins to work. It clicks after a few seconds.

He’s sloppy, he knows this. This should’ve been done with this in a second but it takes ten. Something really isn’t right about all of this. Something isn’t right with him. 

The door opens to the darkened corridor and the shadows greet him like an old friend. He doesn’t know the structure of the building so he simply runs.

He runs and runs, staying in the shadows and observing the place the best he can with his speed. He only stops when he comes upon a window.

This wasn’t right.

He was in Arkham, that was for sure. But it wasn’t Arkham. The sign was fixed and standing up straight, shimmering in the light. A smooth footpath went to what Tim could only assume was the entrance. There were plants, healthy and fresh. This wasn’t a prison, this was hospital, a proud and well paid one.

“What the hell,” Tim mumbles and then he’s off. He’s on the first floor, that’s what he’d gathered from the bizzare sight from earlier. He can get out of here. He just need to be careful.

His feet are cold as they slap against the white tiles. Lights shine softly through the closed windows and Tim only runs faster. 

There’s other doors in the corridor. The residents seem to be asleep though because no one yells at him or calls for security. Residents? More like prisoners. Tim will come back for them. When everything is sorted out.

The receptionist’s desk is up front, it’s empty. A wheelie chair is pushed away from the desk and Tim’s chest freezes. The double doors aren’t locked or there wouldn’t be any need of a person, besides the patrolling police, up this late. He could make it.

“Hey!” A voice shouts and Tim doesn’t look back as he slams the doors open. 

The fresh air hits him like a train wreck but he doesn’t stop to breath it in. The alarms from yesterday are blaring and he knows peoples will be coming after him soon. So he rushes, he rushes down the pristine cobbled footpath and onto asphalt of the empty rode.

He runs and he runs. He could stop but he doesn’t because nothing is right. Gotham is beautiful, cleaned up and squeaky clean. He nearly wants to go back to his small room with only a bed and the toilet and the sink. 

Maybe he really is loosing it.

“Tim please!” Begs a voice and Tim’s feet slid against loose asphalt and gravel. They sting and bite and he hisses as he turns around to face Dr. Joe. 

He shakes his head at the thought. It’s Joker. He may look different and he may act different but it’s still the Joker. But is it? Alternate realities exists. Alternate dimensions exist. 

“Tim, look out!” Dr. Joe screams but

Tim’s body hurts all over and the cracking of glass echoes in his head as his back slams against a windshield.

He doesn’t remember much after that.

—

“How the hell did he get out?!”

“There was a paper clip stuck in the keyhole. The kid is smart.”

“That receptionist is fired. He knew he need to be at that desk 24/7 just in case something like this happened!”

“Joe, you can’t blame them. This was an accident.”

“Tell that to Tim’s family.”

—

“You’re lucky to be alive,” the doctor tells him and Tim nods. He doesn’t feel so lucky. 

He’s tied down again but this time the bed has cushioning. His wrists hurt, as well as his ankles. His back is going to scar the doctor says. Tim could gather that, with all the bandages and blood. His ribs hurt.

“Thank you doctor,” Dr. Joe nods to him. The doctor nods back and leaves after handing Dr. Joe the pills Tim would need to take. 

Dr. Joe sighs warily and Tim absolutely loathes the feeling of guilt that curls in his stomach at the sound. He’s the one whose being held captive and being manipulated, why should he be feeling guilty.

But maybe he wasn’t. He could very well be in an alternate reality. A different dimension. He just needed to find a way out. 

“Tim,” Dr. Joe begins and Tim turns to face the wall. “I’ll be back with Ivy to give you your medicine at seven o’clock. Both of them.”

He stands to leave and Tim stops him with a incoherent whisper. “What was that Tim?”

Tim swallows, his throat is dry and everything aches. Painfully he turns to face Dr. Joe, fingers flexing and twitching at the stinging sensation attacking his body.

He licks his lips and swallows again, meeting Dr. Joes green eyes. “Could you turn the tv on? The news please.” 

Dr. Joe blinks before nodding. “Of course.” He fiddles with the remote and switches to the right channel, adjusting the tv so Tim can see it properly without straining his neck. “There you go.”

“Thank you,” he murmurs, avoiding the Doctors eyes to gaze at the tv. He doesn’t get a response, the door clicking softly shut.

He’s in a different room now. It’s still small and cramped but it’s better in a way. There’s a small tv, a couple of chairs to sit on and old magazines to read. Stupid, considering they’ve tied him down.

There’s nothing he can do other than watch the television. It doesn’t help. There’s no mention of Batman or any hero or villain for that matter. Again, that just wasn’t right. There was a mention of a hero or villain every eight minutes or less.

He can’t comprehend it and he spaced out, staring at a spot on the wall for hours. He’s staring at it when Dr. Joe and Dr. Ivy come in. 

“Tim?” Ivy questions and Tim turns his head towards them. She looks worried. It looks different, her expression, with her not being green and all. It’s weird. 

“Tim, it’s time for your medicine.” Dr. Joe tells him. He eyes him blankly.

The two share a look before Dr. Ivy comes over to adjust the bed. As he’s rised to a sitting position his stitches and bruises burn. He can’t help but let out a hiss.

“Sorry,” she murmurs. Tim doesn’t respond.

“Here you go,” Dr. Joe says, drink in hand and pills cupped in a palm. Tim opens his mouth, lets the pills be placed and takes a sip from the offered cup. 

“Could you turn the tv off now?” He croaks and Dr. Ivy goes and does that as Dr. Joe lowers him back to his original position. Tim stares at that spot again. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow Tim.” Dr. Joe says.

Tim hears the click of the door as they leave.

—

It’s the same routine for days on end. He’s left alone for hours, staring at a single spot. His cheeks feel wet sometimes. 

Harley visits during the day. It’s nice. She tells him stories of the other patients, what silly thing they did today or how they were improving. She sounded proud of them. 

She let him out of his chains too. Only to take him to the bathroom. It’s embarrassing having her watch him. He doesn’t try to escape though. He’s stuck here. He figured that out a long time ago.

Her voice is always warm and up beat. She feeds him custard and soup carefully and chuckles at him when it spills down his chin. She’s nice. Tim likes her visits.

Dr. Joe’s visits are alright. He talks endlessly, makes Tim repeat a few phrases. He talks to Tim likes he’s an incompetent child. Is this what Damian feels like? Tim’s starting to dread his visits.

Ivy is nice. Tim sees the wedding ring on her finger and he can’t help but ask about it. Ivy is rather tanned but she flushed bright. She says her and Harley are engaged, they plan to get married in the fall. Tim smiles and it stretches his scabs but he doesn’t mind. He congratulates them.

He thinks it’s the first time he’s smiled for the whole two weeks. It feels nice. Ivy looks relieved.

He doesn’t like it when TwoFace visits though. TwoFace doesn’t hit him anymore, mainly because he wouldn’t be able to get away with it. He tells them just that. He still managed to be cruel, his words being harsh and biting. He tells him he’ll never leave this place and that scares Tim more than anything. 

He just wants to go home.

—

“Hello handsome,” Harley sing songs as she enters the room. Tim doesn’t reply, he never does but that doesn’t stop the spring in her step.

She mingles around the room as usual. She cleans up, pulling a face at anything unsanitary. Tim finds it amusing.

“I just can’t believe it!” She rambles, peeling the plastic lid off of the yogurt. “Me and Ivy? It seemed impossible and yet we’re getting married! We talked about having a family you know? We both want to have kids. I think we’re going to do adopt. We just want to give them a home and make sure they know they’re loved.”

Home. 

Tim misses his home. 

He misses Bruce and his warm palm on his shoulder and in his hair. He misses Jason’s arm around his shoulders and his deep chuckles. He misses Dick’s hugs and Cass’s kisses. He wants Damian to yell at him again, to blame him for another animal in the house. He misses his small smiles and Stephanie’s pranks. He misses Alfred’s teasing and his raised brows. He misses them so damn much.

He wants to go home.

He wants to see his family.

“Oh honey,” Harley whispers and Tim just lets out a sob. He doesn’t care he’s crying, doesn’t care he’s getting tears on his sheets and making a fool of himself. He just wants to go home.

Harley pats his hair, wipes his tears and whispers sweet words. Tim barley hears it, his throat clogged up and sore. He feels overbearingly warm and his head aches red hot.

Tim cries himself to sleep that night.

—

“He’s unstable Harley.”

“Please Dr. Joe. He needs to see his family. I think it might help. No, it will help.”

“Hey, the Wayne’s want to see him anyway. He’s hurt remember? You promised they could visit when he’s physically stable.”

“I don’t know.”

“Joe you can’t deny them from seeing him. You don’t have that kind of authority.”

“I know. Okay I’ll make some plans. Stop cheering you two! You’re going to wake the residents up!”

—

He’s holding something. It’s clear, it’s in a juice container.

There’s two shattered glasses on the floor. There’s something like water on the floor, it’s shimmering in the light.

He can’t control himself. He’s reaching for two new glasses. He’s pouring the liquid in and it’s turning green. It looks like poison. He puts the bottle down. It has a skull on it. 

Jack comes in. He doesn’t see the bottle or the shattered glass. They had disappeared. He smiles, ruffled Tim’s hair. He takes the glasses. Tim’s cries are unheard from the man.

His mum smiles, takes a cup. They kiss, a small peck on the lips. The glasses clink and they take a sip.

Their eyes widen as their skin starts to peel off their body. They start to foam at the mouth. Tim’s screaming for them but they can’t hear.

They drop dead. Tim yells.

—

The bed is damp with sweat and tears. Tim is crying and he can’t wipe away the tears or the snot. It was his fault. He killed them. He’s a murderer. He killed his own parents.

“Chum?” A voice murmurs and Tim lets out a cracking sob.

A figure is next to him. He’s large but his expression is soft. He has bags under his eyes, a worried frown twisted on his lips. 

“Dad?” He croaks, throat raw and burning. 

The figure comes into the light and Tim sobs, harsh and broken. Bruce makes a shushing noise, eyes wet as he runs a hand through Tim’s hair. It’s nice. Really nice.

“I’m here baby,” he whispers and the hand in his hair slides down to wipe away the tears on his cheeks. Tim swallows, hiccuping.

“You’re here,” he whispers it like a secret, “you didn’t leave me.” 

A tear slides down Bruce’s cheek as he swallows thickly. Tim closes his eyes, trembling as he leans into the palm caressing his face.

“I’d never leave you,” He promises and Tim believes him.

“I want to go home,” he murmurs into the hand and Bruce intakes a shaky breath.

“I know. I know baby.”

—

He can feel the ache in his throat before he even wakes up. He swallows thickly, coughing as he opens his eye. He’s alone.

He panics.

“Timmy! Timmy calm down, it’s okay!” A voice soothes and Tim nearly snaps his neck as he turns to his right. 

Dick is standing up, arms waving around uselessly. He looks panicked, a plastic chair knocked over behind him. 

“Dick?” He whispers and he feels the tears starting up again. They slip down his cheek and Dick is quick to move, laying next to him on the bed awkwardly.

He isn’t strapped down his brain supplies as Dick scoops him into his chest. It’s warm he thinks as he nuzzles into his elder brothers comforting hold.

“I’m right here Timmy. We all are. We’re taking you home.” He promises and a chocked whine escapes his throat as he nods hurriedly.

“We sure are,” a voice chuckles and Tim wiggles around. He peers over Dick’s arm and a small, relieved, sigh escapes his lips.

“Jay?” He asks and his elder brother nods. He has a plastic bag in arms and he dumps them on the edge of the bed.

Jason ignores Dick’s squeaking as he shimmies up the bed. He flops on the both of them, gentle and cautious as he does and nuzzles his nose into Tim’s elbow. Tim’s pretty sure he’s crying again as he burrows his head into his brothers great locks.

“Right here pipsqueak,” he sing songs and a broken chuckle scratches his throat as it escapes.

“Don’t leave,” He croaks and Dick’s arm squeezes just a bit tighter around his middle. 

“Not gonna happen, ya are getting out of the loony place.” Jason grumbles and Dick smacks the back of his head. 

He yanks Jason’s hair and hisses something into his ear. Tim doesn’t bother listening, sinking into the warmth that is his brothers. He missed this. He really did.

“Hey!” A voice yells and Tim sees blonde hair under Dick’s arm and through Jason’s locks. “I left you two idiots for two seconds and you’re already fighting!”

“Besides!” Another, smaller and annoyed voice cuts in, “I thought we all agreed I would be the one to hug Timothy first!”

Tim smiles, small and soft as Damian kicks Jason off of him to take his place on Tim’s stomach. His arms are trembling as he hugs him and Tim hugs back just as fierce, stuff the stitches.

Stephanie joins in on the group hug, after whacking both Jason and Dick. Cass comes in, presses a tender kiss to Tim’s forehead. Tim starts crying again but no one mentions it, pulling the boy closer to them. 

“Thank you,” He chokes out and Stephanie ruffles his hair, grinning through her own tears.

“You haven’t thanked us yet!” Jason exclaimed, jumping up from his kneeled position by the bed. “Turns our loony food is just as bad as hospital food so we sneaked in some McDonalds!”

He rifles through the bag, pulling out a burger and slapping it on top of Damian’s head. The bit grumbles but doesn’t budge, letting Tim unwrap it with trembling hands. 

“Thank you,” He says again and Cass kisses his cheek once again. 

He might not be home yet but he has his family with him. That’s more than he has ever wanted for the past month.

—

“You’re too late detective.” The sorcerer murmurs, a wicked grin curling up her lips. 

Batman watches in horror as the crystals cover Tim completely. His boy looks at peace, curled up like he is. His son.

“What the fuck did you do to him?!” Red Hood yells, cocking AK-47 assault rifle right at the witches head. 

The woman says nothing and the bullet flys right between her eyes. She glows golden and the bullet, now crushed, tumbles to her feet. White eyes stare into Bruce’s own.

“You said you would protect him,” Bruce growls and it cracks mid way. His sons and daughters swivel around to face him. Bruce doesn’t meet their gaze.

“I did,” the witch says sagely. “ I protected him from the people who would hurt him most. I protected him from the lot of you.”

“How is that protecting him?!” Nightwing yells, arm shaking in rage as he gestures madly to his brother, forever stuck in crystals. “He’s dead!”

“On contrary,” the witch states as she glides down to the crystal. Damian flings himself at her with a yell but he just phases right through her. She places a hand on the crystal. It glows under her palm. “He is very much alive. He is in a world that will do him no harm. Not anymore that is. He is accepted and loved.”

“We loved Tim.” Black Bat tells the sorcerer. She pulls down her mask, tears slipping down her cheeks. She looked absolutely broken. 

The witch lets out a hum that sounds like a wind chime. “Yes you may have. Where he is will shield him. They will not use him, hurt him or belittle him. Not like you lot. I’ll be generous however. You did love him, I’ll give you that. You can keep the crystallised boy. He won’t wake up, he won’t speak. But you can keep him.”

With a wave of her hand the world around them vanishes at the edges until it’s all black. They’re in the cave now. So is Tim.

A glass shatters behind them as Alfred gasps, a hand to his mouth. He’s crying. They all are. 

Stephanie collapses against the crystal, hair covering her face. Cass presses a kiss to it as Damian leans his head on it. Dick turns away and Bruce just stares. Jason was on the floor, back against the beautiful stone.

There was no resurrections this time. There was no miracle escapes. There was no help from the league. Tim was gone.

Tim was gone and yet he was right in front of them.

**Author's Note:**

> Sooo. What did you think?


End file.
